


The Blue Devil and Other Outside Forces by Eddie Brock

by krissmnasi



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Crossover, Free Donuts, Journalism, M/M, Mad Science, Multi, Mystery, Other, POV Alternating, Road Trips, Stone is not dumb he's just a simp, honestly anne and dan have to babysit venom and eddie or else the do something dumb and feral, mary is only mentioned, the government sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissmnasi/pseuds/krissmnasi
Summary: "In February, a catastrophe struck our dear city of San Francisco. Entire roads, buildings, and cars were damaged in one day in no more than ten minutes, a trail of damage that seemed to stretch across at least half of the entire city itself. The government has yet to release an official statement outside of mere excuses. As a citizen of San Francisco, I am here to uncover the truth and my journey outside of our galaxy." - Brock, Edward Allan. “The Blue Devil and Other Outside Forces.” The Eddie Brock Report, 17 Dec. 2018, theeddiebrockreport.com.San Francisco is typically alien-invasion free, unlike New York. However, two speeding entities cause the destruction of multiple buildings, sections of roads, and completely blow up entire cars.Agent Stone is the only person who wants to willingly seek out Dr. Robotnik after his disappearance which, according to the government, 'never happened because such a person had never existed'.Eddie Brock is a reporter who so happens to live in San Francisco and is very sure that he can get to the bottom of what had just happened. And if he must make a trip to Montana, then that is what he'll do.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 25
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Venom / Sonic Movie crossover fic with a large helping of Stobotnik and Symbrock! I loved Venom, and I loved the Sonic movie, so I just smashed those two together and this is what we have. If you haven't watched either one of those movies, spoilers are afoot. But I do recommend watching them both even without the help of this fic because they're both good movies.
> 
> This first chapter is more of just a setup of the real meaty stuff. It's a very short chapter, so expect something a bit chunkier later on.

His new apartment wasn’t as close to the usual bodega as his last one. It was a little extra walk away, but he’d still come by, just to say hello to Mrs.Chen who smiled nervously when he walked past and always offered a little something extra for his troubles, which were none considering he was just helping out that one night. 

But the move also meant that, on a walk that would usually end right now with him crying on his couch, he was passed by some sort of blue blur and what seemed to be a jet chasing down that blur, shooting at random cars in its general direction. Venom screeched under his skin, the sudden vibrations a violent awakening, and Eddie jerked his body away from the now farther lines of speed and energy.

The damage that it left behind looked irreparable, Mrs.Chen’s bodega just a hair away from the crossfire, a couple’s car lit on fire, a road that would have to wait a good week or two to be fixed. Eddie’s ears ring, then his body hastily backs off into an alleyway, recovering.

 **_Should we go check it out?_ ** Asks the symbiote, a tendril now snaking out of his neck and wrapping up towards his face, crooning.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Let’s go,” replies the reporter, who lifts one leg up the wall and raises a claw next, crawling their joined form up towards the roof, where they view the red and blue blur running along buildings and setting other places on fire.

 _“Shit, what the fuck is that?”_ and Eddie receives no answer, just a distinct feeling of concern and shared confusion between him and his symbiote. _“Can we even catch up to it?”_

No is the answer before they even start running, as a large golden portal opens up and the two entities disappear. All they leave behind is destruction.

It doesn’t take too long for the police to arrive, and Venom wastes no time forming back into ‘puny’ Brock, pretending to walk out the alleyway like he hadn’t just attempted to chase down whatever had happened. It’s a good thing he has a phone to write notes down, he’d left his notebook at his shit apartment.

“Sir, please leave the area until we figure out when it’s safe to enter again.” The officer is stern, as he should be, which is good to see. Eddie takes out his phone, to which he can tell the officer is about to tell him to put it down and whatnot, but he opens his troublesome mouth before he can get told off.

“Hi, I’m Eddie Brock, of The Eddie Brock Report. Can I just interview you really quick about what just happened?” He opens his voice recorder app, gesturing for the officer to take a look in a silent gesture of asking for permission to interview. The officer begrudgingly nods, rolling his eyes. Anything to help the public, but it can be such an inconvenience.  
“Listen, all I saw was that there was this thing being chased by a guy in a jet. We only know as much as you do right now, sir. You can try getting back to us and seeing if there’s anything useful but, uh, I don’t think there’s anything for you here yet.”

After taking a few pictures of the destruction, which stretch across about- what he can tell- is half the length of the city, Eddie heads back to his apartment and locks the door behind him. Sure, New York has its own aliens, but whatever that was, surely it was _not_. It was incomprehensibly fast, the blue just said something about being unnatural ( and, yes, he’s made a few articles about the Kree but this blue was a lot brighter, like electricity, and he was very sure that the Kree couldn’t run that fast, if he could remember correctly ).

Something felt off, and Venom felt it too, snaking out of his lower back and extending to reach a box of cheez-its that Eddie was to snack on as he wrote down a few bullet points on his computer.

Stone looked intently at the stream on the lab computer, watching as Ivo made his best attempt at capturing the hedgehog, or what he _presumed_ to be a hedgehog. A very anthropomorphic, blue, and fast hedgehog. The setting changed dramatically, from the unfamiliar city of San Francisco to the more familiar Green Hills in Montana, a place he so distinctly remembers out of the fact that Robotnik had made a comment on when he was told that was where his mission was ( “Green Hills? Are you fucking kidding me?” said the doctor, to which Agent Stone remained silent and nodded in vague agreement ).

The audio was starting to scramble, out of the overload of energy crackling within the microphone receiver, and Stone shuffles from his seat with both hands on the desk, his weight shifting, body standing up to look closer at the monitor. There was the anomalous hedgehog laying on the road, body lifeless as his friends cheer him on to get up.

It was kind of sad and depressing, but also a relief as it meant maybe, hopefully soon, Robotnik would have a full night’s sleep for once and he’d get the recognition he deserved.

That was, of course, until sparks of blue signalled its awakening, and Stone gripped into the palm of his hand. There was Robotnik and the hedgehog, face to face against each other, and all that was left of the recording was Sonic pushing Ivo into _something_ and a golden ring. The video cuts to static, Stone’s body going limp and his legs giving out as he slowly but surely makes his way to the floor. Eyes wide open and a hand over his chest, he begins to sob. 

The lab is quiet, as it usually is, but it’s not its usual quiet. There is the whirring of inside mechanics, the static from the monitor, and the soft sobbing of a broken man. But there is no metal against metal, there is no beeping of statistics, no music coming out of headphones with the volume raised too high. There is no Ivo Robotnik. And Stone can say this for certainty because, at any given moment in a situation such as this, Robotnik makes it a priority to prove Stone wrong.

His phone does not buzz with a text, the monitors stay on their fuzzy state without repair, and there is nobody else in the world who is watching this happen. Only Stone, who shakily gets up and only cries out more, an ugly cry that his entire body shakes, his chest heaving, and he makes a very crude attempt at contacting Robotnik. He makes a text, no answer. He calls, no answer. And, even using every possible mode of communication the lab has, he gets not a single answer.

Stone perks at a garble of static, which he thinks is a message, but he just tuned in at the wrong frequency and caught a satellite by mistake.

When he informs the others, he leaves the room fuming and red faced. Their plan is to forget he ever existed? It was never his fault he was never given any documentation, revolted by his peers, forced to grow up in a life that never showed him any compassion. All of the other agents sigh with relief as Agent Stone must fight back tears to keep his composure together.

And nobody will ever say this happened. Ivo Robotnik was never a person to begin with, the chase and potential capture of the unknown blue entity is forgotten, and all order has been put back together. What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?

There must be somebody, _anybody_ , out there who wants to know the truth. And Stone is the only one who’s willing to give it.

“ _Green Hills, Montana_ ,” Eddie repeats on the phone, typing the last of his notes onto his word document. “Alright, thanks- yeah, thanks Mark. Say hi to the wife and kids for me.” 

Eddie doesn’t have many friends since his firing from the network. But the few he has left, Anne, and now Dan, and his travelling college buddies are still in touch. He’s glad Mark keeps updating him on whatever small towns he’s collecting stamps from ( “for a cool art thing,” he said once, but Eddie didn’t much care for it ) because Mark had just made a call about a very weird attack in his current small town. Something a group of ‘government-people’ had come down to inform them didn’t really happen, Men-In-Black style. But without the flashing stick, added Mark.

“So it happened about the same-ish time as here, right? Or after we saw the thing leave? Right, uh-uh, so what if it happened anywhere else?”

These were mostly musings to himself as he tapped a pen to his unshaven chin but Eddie was hoping the resting creature that lived inside his ribcage would offer an idea or two. But it grumbled, something about there being no more cheez-its, and left him with pondering questions.

He looked over his notes again.

  * Jet with a man inside
  * Blue creature
    * Emitting blue electricity
  * Crazy man that turned out to be correct
    * The Blue Devil?
      * Possibly a religious thing
      * Like satan?
        * Manifestation of sins?
  * Green Hills, Montana
  * Government keeping it under wraps
    * Government’s fault?



One thing out of the nonsense was clear: he had to go to Green Hills. San Francisco was going to take a month to repair all the damage, he was sure of it, so he had to make use of the information he had now. It was a road trip that meant, but he didn’t have a car. And he was pretty sure neither Dan nor Anne would willingly give him one of their own cars for his road trip to Montana.

“Hey, how does a day long road trip sound like right about now?” Eddie starts typing in room vacancies in or near Green Hills on Google, coming across an AirBnB, and starts lightly packing. 

**_We don’t have a car_ **, booms the voice in his head, swirling around. It’s an odd feeling to get used to, a snake-like creature swerving between the spaces preoccupied by organs, something you don’t usually feel. But it soon grew on Eddie, the calming and warm sensation, the caress of a tendril on his chest at night. It was gross to think about, but nice to feel.

“Yeah, well, I’m just gonna borrow one. Or we can. . . ?” He lifts his shoulders and turns his hands palm-up in a shrug, awaiting another response.

 **_You expect us to travel between California and Montana without problems,_ **is the statement, leaking with disgust or sneer but Eddie can’t tell which. It hisses as he drops his shoulders, with a sigh of defeat. No way they’d be able to pull it off. “Eh, it was worth a shot.”

Instructed to be off the case, Agent Stone promptly decides he’s going to do the exact opposite. He’s going to bring back Dr. Robotnik, wherever he is, even without the help of the shitty government. Stone is scouring Green Hills for anything; broken jet pieces ( which he’s found a few of ), any blue hedgehog fur ( none so far ), and any of Robotnik’s belongings. A glove or two, perhaps, but he found nothing else. Just a few broken bits and the night sky.

“I’ll find you, Doctor. Even if it’s the last thing I do.” He mutters under his breath, eyes darkened with lethargy. Everybody had decided to stay quiet, even the tourist who was leaving with his family the next morning, not saying a word when Stone has asked what had happened. People had conflicting answers, none that matched up to explain why the road was in such disrepair and why there was such a prominent amount of scrap on it.

He can at least say the people were nice to him. None recognised him from his first time in the area, which was fairly brief so he didn’t blame him, and the lady at the donut store had given him a free jelly donut for his troubles. He looked distressed upon entry, nobody blamed him at all. 

He had decided to sit down at a tree, exhausted, one very good jelly donut in one hand and a roughed up egg drone in the other. He bit into the donut again, finishing it off, leaning back. Maybe he’ll rest, just this bit, for a brief moment. He can continue to search for Robotnik in ten minutes.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

When you didn’t care about where you lived, saving money wasn’t hard. Eddie lived a fairly humble life, had enough money to do almost anything he wanted. Always just enough for stupid ideas, like buying a car solely for the purpose of going on this road trip to Montana. He’d decided better, though, renting a Honda Civic instead. Just fit for the trip, and he didn’t have to worry about the long-term effects of owning an entire car when you didn’t even have a garage.

“We got clothes, necessities, snacks, my laptop, uhh. . .” Eddie trailed off, accounting for the things that he had in his luggage. Not much, but he wasn’t even planning on staying long. He even took the advantage of sleeping in his car for the time he was staying there. No need to pay for extra accommodation when he could just lay down in the back seat.

Road trips with a toddler are already hard. He had to do it once or twice, back when he and Mary were still talking to each other. Eddie being the toddler of course, at age 24, and Mary his annoying sister at age 28. But having to do it now? Venom was at least a bit more dog-like, an extension from Eddie’s elbow to the seat beside him, a lump of what seemed to him as a ‘sleeping’ symbiote.

Symbiotes didn’t exactly sleep, to Eddie’s knowledge. It just laid there, bored, eyes closed to concentrate on some sort of mental movie. Which he understood, of course. He was driving so that meant he was busy focusing on something but it also meant that Venom couldn’t do anything to bother him. If it did, he’d possibly crash into something and kill them both or, at the least, cause a minor inconvenience. Neither of those things sounded good.

“Mark said it was a pretty small place. All the people are nice, at least. So no snacking on them, alright?”

**_Fine. Unless we find a bad one-_ **

“Yes, unless we find a bad one, but even that too I’m kinda, uh, I just wanna lay low this time.” He grips the wheel tighter, looking ahead at the road. This was going to be a long one, huh?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Venom arrive in Green Hills, Montana, coming across what seems to be the most truthful and yet insane well-dressed man in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I didn't expect such an outpouring of love for this fic! I haven't written a long one in some time, so I'm happy to see that it's doing well. Onwards to Green Hills!

“You alright, kid?” said a voice, accompanied by what felt like a branch poking at Stone’s side. He grumbled awake, to an old man with a grey beard that reached to cover his neck, leering over to him in a way that had shocked the agent’s nerves. Stone’s body jumped briefly, humouring the man as he laughed at the reaction, receiving a swat-away from him.

The trashed egg drone was poised in such a way that suggested Stone had been cuddling it, and he noticed that he had risen from the dirt and grass. He had fallen asleep on it, which was disgusting, because his really nice made-to-fit tailored suit was now covered in dirt on one side. Surely, if Robotnik had seen this, he’d throw a very understandable fit.

“Hey, you don’t look like you can’t afford a motel. Get some proper rest.” Stone didn’t respond, and the man pointed in the general direction down the street, towards a neon sign switched off he can safely assume is the aforementioned motel. “Farm cows can really go to town on poorly built roads, huh.”

And Stone knew that was another coverup story to the destruction. Wild farm cows, some kid’s poorly planned explosive science experiment, general wear and tear that came from never being a well maintained road in the first place. Agent Stone was smarter than that, he knew something was up, and he’d watched it all happen on the lab monitor.

“No, I have my own place. But thank you anyways, sir,” Stone finally spoke back, standing up to take the man’s hand in both of his own and smile in a thankful gesture. It’s no use being mean to the people here, they’re just trying their best. Of course, Robotnik would retort and say something about them being idiotically loyal to higher powers. But Stone likes to be nice sometimes, just to avoid future scuffles. And, not to mention, being nice felt refreshing.

Knocking on the lab door, Stone had to remind himself that there wasn’t anybody on the other side. The vacancy of flashing lights and loud blaring music was disheartening, entering it with silence was even more so. Instead of two lattes- with steamed australian goat milk- Stone was holding one, the other hand preoccupied with the last left trace of Robotnik. Of course, there was the plethora of other machines in Robotnik’s lab, but none of them were there witnessing the night he left.

Opening a drawer hidden cleverly into the wall, Stone pulls out a tool box, stark white except for accents of the clasp that glowed. Robotnik was very into glowing lights on small objects; it made them easier to find, he said first, and they were also really cool, he added. “Let’s see,” began the Agent, who placed it on the desk alongside the broken egg drone.

He took a sip of his latte, reaching under the desk for a wire that he pulled to connect to the drone. It took some time trying to find the plug, which he had to pull off a piece of metal for due to the damage, and he connected it to the monitor. The desk surface flickered to reveal a keyboard, which he promptly used to search for the egg drone’s data.

File after file of all it’s recordings lined up. From its creation through to its demise, recordings of past missions and updating tweaks. The drone needed time to repair itself, Stone noted, as the final recording- the one that would have shown what happened to Robtonik- was in the process of being converted to an mp4 watchable video.

But, in the meantime, Stone got to work on the other bits of information. If he can try to catch a signal, anywhere or anyhow at all connected to Robotnik, that would be all he needed left to bring Robotnik home. Home to their lab-trailer, to their egg drones, to lattes with steamed australian goat milk.

Road trips usually start in the early morning but there’s a special perk to leaving the house at the middle of the night. By their first gas stop, the sun had started to rise, and it meant no creepy guys lingering by the corners of the alleyways. At least, not likely to be. Just because Eddie was wearing a black hoodie- his grey one was in his luggage, mind you- and was unshaven, looked like he had never slept a day in his life, and always asked questions  _ didn’t  _ mean he was here for a drug deal. So going in broad daylight just felt like the perfect way to let other people know that drugs were not the case.

“Hi, uh, pump four please,” he says, placing a heart-shaped box of chocolates on the counter for the cashier to scan.

“Who are you meeting?” She asks, tapping the total of his purchase as he takes out money from his wallet. 

“Ah, it’s for my husband.” He raises the back of his hand, flashing a black ring with the engravings  _ E&V  _ on it. And she nods, giving him his change of a dollar and fifty cents. She couldn’t care any less, she just works at a gas station.

**_Your husband?_ ** Croons the symbiote, shifting from around Eddie’s appendix to his left kidney as he fills the car with gas.

“You, dumbass. I was talking about you.” A tendril snakes from his neck and slides up to nest against his ear in an imitation of an earphone, to which Eddie thanks his symbiote for. The black ring trembles slightly, like a purr, and the journalist smiles. “We’re not eating it yet, though. I kinda wanted to save it to last longer, you know. We got, uh, a couple of hours ahead of us.”

The video is replayed over and over again. The clash of metal against metal against alien hedgehog becomes a repeating pattern that Stone studies far too hard. In the bottom right corner is the drone’s exact coordinates, and it briefly gets sucked into the golden portal before being spat out upon its door closing. But he can see Robotnik, his arms flailing forward for purchase, his yell of fear as he enters this world.

It’s full of mushrooms, Stone can see, but the angle of the drone only captures part of the world. Quite possibly, there is a village of civilization. Someway or somehow that Robotnik could get help, or find a way to contact Stone. He may just need a little bit of time before Robotnik can get back to him, and Stone can only hope that the doctor can keep it together by then. He was a scientist second to mad, which was not a good trait for survival in an entire other world.

On his desk now is a metal box crudely put together. A transmitter, a microphone, a section to select the frequency it’s heard at to tune in to specific channels. But this world was different, outside the scope of known science entirely, and so Stone must resort to finding other means. He types in search terms into the computer’s file system for blueprints on the jet, which comes up alongside the design of Robotnik’s flight suit. And Stone sighed, shoulders limping downwards.

Specifications, materials, lengths and widths and special compartments. At least Robotnik had a drink with him, the cup holder was a cute addition. Not required, but definitely useful.

And there it was, instructions to communicate between the jet and the lab, in the event that the live feed got cut and Robotnik would have to resort to more neanderthalic means.

Tweaking the metal box was not the hard part. It’s impossible to test, it’s impossible to tell whether or not this would even work for such a place as wherever Robotnik was now, and Stone wasn’t as well versed in mechanics as Robotnik was. He studied self defence, world relations, and business. He didn’t study engineering, he only knew as much as Robotnik taught him, and his nerves were beginning to pull apart this case in such a way that was far too uncomfortable for Stone. Robotnik’s return could hinge solely on Stone, it could be entirely impossible, and Stone didn’t like that possibility at all whatsoever.

In an attempt to reorganise his thoughts, Stone cleared the desk. It was a mess of metal, wiring, tools, and scraps. The informational section of the jet’s blueprint is zoomed in, something about the science behind the hedgehog fur that powers the entire thing, allowing for it to reach never-before envisioned speeds. Stone sighed as he read it over again, remembering how incredibly joyful Robotnik was when he had discovered the potential he could have, the possibilities that opened up for him and Agent Stone, to be seen by his peers as a  _ somebody _ . 

Eddie peaked out the car window when he rolled it down. He looked forwards, then behind, and noticed that the road was essentially all to themselves. And, like an agent in a spy movie confirming the chance for a shootout to his other spy partner, he nods at Venom. The symbiote slithers from its seat, onto Eddie’s lap, and drapes itself outside on the window. Then, Eddie presses the gas and the car increases speed, the tendril flailing in the air like a dog sticking its own tongue out to enjoy the breeze. If it hit a sign, there was no worry, and Eddie enjoyed the euphoric feeling that came with letting the symbiote have some unrestrained fun every now and then. A rush of chemicals and reactions to such chemicals mixed in their shared subconscious and he smiled, an elbow leaning out beside the tendril as he continued to drive them forwards.

“San Fran is nice, but. . .” he starts, gripping the wheel of the car.

**_Nice to be out like this_ ** , finishes the symbiote, white eyes squinting like a cat communicating its fondness of the company. The idea of them being married to each other was the symbiote's own idea. The tie to human traditions was appealing in its own charm, the idea that the symbiote could be treated as an equal person. And Eddie himself wasn’t into tradition, despite his upbringing. But the symbiote wanted a wedding, had urged Eddie to invite Anne and Dan to help ( Dan reading a printout off the internet and Anne being the ring bearer ), and even cleared out space in their living room to make it somewhat formal. Two kitchen stools sat in front of them, and Eddie can remember feeling like he looked incredibly stupid in a suit and tie, but the symbiote called him handsome and Dan had cried so it was well worth it.

“Yeah. I don’t think we’ve ever been outside of San Fran together, huh,” he says, looking towards the gps on his phone. Still quite a distance away from Green Hills, but they were on the track to getting there. “I don’t want to move, though. Our apartment sucks ass but it’s good enough, right. And I really don’t want to leave Mrs.Chen suddenly. That’s kinda mean, don’tcha think?”

Venom agrees, grumbling back in that deep dulcet tone, but Eddie starts laughing because it sounds like it’s being said through a fan. The garbling of the sound doesn’t stop until the symbiote retracts from the window onto his lap, and he presses a button for the window to roll back up. The free hand pets Venom like a cat, but he continues to laugh.

**_I could eat you right now_ ** , says the symbiote, and Eddie doesn’t stop laughing.

“You could, but you won’t.”

By the time Stone had finished watching the recording for the millionth time, the sun had gone down. It was unusual for Stone to be the one overworking at the desk. Usually, it’s him pointing a gun at someone at midnight, interrogating them. Of course, that was with his past job as an agent who wasn’t working with someone such as Robotnik. It was his more hands-on job, his more life-threatening one. And, of course, one could argue that his mission with Robotnik was already life threatening. But not quite like being the government’s hitman, the bad cop, the top-tier spy who messed up  _ once  _ and was forced to menial servant-labour instead. He’s not complaining, per se, because it had led him to an opportunity to work with Robotnik again after college. But it was at least a smidgen bit degrading.

He decided to take a break, pushing himself up and off his seat, wobbling from one step to another. His knees hurt from sitting down for so long, and he can honestly say that his own ass felt numb for the wrong reasons.

“Hello, miss. Can I get a strawberry jelly donut, please?” He’s back at the donut shop, and whilst the woman was a bit perplexed as to why he was wearing the same suit as yesterday, despite the obvious patches of grass on it, she served him anyways. “And an iced tea, too, if you can.”

Like a gentleman, he gives the woman a tip on his way out, sitting at a bench with his iced tea and his donut. And, just as he bites into it, the lights of the shop turn off, signalling midnight. Or closing time, which also so happens to be midnight. The streets are empty, except for the dog that’s sleeping at the corner of one and the flyer that’s blowing in the wind. 

A car comes by, the only one around, and Stone can tell it’s from out of town. It drives into the center, and the way it’s moving suggests it’s looking for a parking space, which there’s only room for in front of the motel and the donut shop. Lest the driver wanted to parallel park, but it seemed like they thought better than that, Stone’s hand coming up to block the blinding headlights from burning his eyes.

When the car parks and the lights turn off, a man pops his head out the side window.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie says, sucking a breath through his teeth. If it had been daytime and Stone hadn’t just been blinded, he may have been able to recognise the face. But alas, he’s far too tired to recognise that  _ the  _ Eddie Brock of The Eddie Brock Report was there right in front of him, apologising.

“It’s alright, sir, “ Stone replies, making his best attempt at trying to figure out who this was. Green Hills was a small town, it wasn’t too hard to recognise people, but this man was new. He’d never been here before, and the more Stone squinted the more he realised- “Oh, aren’t you Eddie Brock?”

The man in the car laughs, stepping out of his car to stretch and walk towards Stone. He could see Eddie much clearer, with the street lights that flickered every now and then, the car beeping as he locked it and sat by Stone.

“What, you want an autograph?” It’s apparent that Eddie hadn’t been stopped for some time. That is, of course, a perk of working from his apartment. Not going out meant not running into people, which was already hard on its own because Eddie refuses to buy anything through amazon. And while there are a lot of very good sellers for stuff out there, etsy is not his usual go-to for toilet paper. Which makes going out a necessity.

“No, that’s quite alright, Mr.Brock-”

“Jesus, just call me Eddie. I’m just a guy, not your boss or whatever.” The symbiote twists and turns in Eddie’s stomach and he knows just what that means. He reaches a hand in his pocket and it quickly fills with goo-like mass holding onto his fingers, their version of holding hands. “Hey, uh, do you know if I can park my car here overnight? I’m doing an investigation and I really don’t want to spend on staying at a motel or whatever.”

“An investigation? On what, if I may?” Stone wasn’t the type to get into the news- too much going on at the same time- but he did watch Eddie’s reports before the network pulled him off.

“Something that destroyed a bunch of San Francisco. Like, I’m talking buildings, and roads, and cars and stuff in ten minutes. Crazy, but I’m sure there’s an explanation somewhere.”

Stone perks up, and he has to take a sip of his iced tea to not squeal in excitement. A man who wants to know the truth and a man who wants to tell it.

Sounds like a good idea.

“Oh, I think I might be able to help you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Stone begin to work together and Eddie gets to interview TWO people in one day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH the outpouring of love for this fic is overwhelming! So happy that people actually like it, updates are going to come regularly every week. Again, a less meaty chapter, but more setup of the next one than anything else.

Stone invites Eddie to meet at the bench in the morning, after they both catch up on rest. And while the reporter and his celestial slime have a good night’s sleep, Stone lays awake at night, staring into the grey ceiling of his section of the trailer, hands on his chest and tears burning his eyes. He had never questioned his own intellect, even around Robotnik, up until this point.

He wasn’t sure if he could pull this off- if  _ anybody  _ could pull this off- but he had to try. He’d be damned if he didn’t, 

Eddie was a stickler for keeping cautious. At least, before, when he was a coward. In his reporting career, he found the thrill in being so close to danger. Not of dying, of course, but of the fact that what he was doing would get him into trouble for the right reasons. Because the people he was snooping under were bad, were evil, didn’t deserve to have a platform to defend themselves.

And, this time, he had Venom, who was sitting diligently at the stem of his brain. The symbiote slithers into the crevices of the organ, tuning into what Eddie was seeing, _a lot like Ratatouille_ , they crooned. To which Eddie assures it that, no, this was not like Ratatouille. Following the guy- _Agent_ _Stone_ he said, which was an odd name but Eddie’s own last name was ‘Brock’ and it just seemed fitting that ‘Big Rock’ and ‘Stone’ were working together- he takes caution in the destination.

It’s a cleared part of the forest that sits up on the hill adjacent to the town, with what seems like a trailer that would fit a sci-fi movie set centuries after Eddie’s own career would live for ( and, considering his influence, that’s a  _ lot  _ of centuries ).

“Sorry if this is a bit of an odd place to be, Eddie. I seem to be the only one that actually wants to tell people the truth,” Stone says, and Eddie immediately jots that in a mental note. Sounds like a cult leader trying to lift his organisation off the ground, which wasn’t Eddie’s first trip to the rodeo, but it was starting to get a bit of the same narrative over and over again. A guy telling the truth who just wants people to listen. “Nobody else seems to care about the bigger picture, even the people directly involved, and I’m pretty sure that whatever caused it is  _ still here _ . If we find it, we can- we can help save someone.”

“What, like an alien or something?” At that, Eddie can feel the grumble that resonates in his skull, a response from his very own personal alien. He remembers the call with Mark, about how it was some sort of little blue ‘thing’ that could talk, could spark electricity, could reach an intensely fast speed. He had left before he saw the ending of what seemed to be a battle but the information he gave Eddie was still useful to some degree. “What did it look like?”

“Like a hedgehog, if it was in a cartoon, walked on two legs, and. . . I’m not sure why I thought it was a hedgehog. Might’ve been the nose.” Stone pressed a finger to his own nose, to emphasise, as he pressed a button on what seemed to be a set of gloves he had tucked away in his pocket.

The door to the side of the futuristic trailer slid open as steps appeared one by one. The symbiote churned in uneasiness, but Eddie persisted, following behind after Stone had entered without issues. Eddie felt somewhat underdressed, in his leather jacket, grey tee, and sweatpants. He was told to dress comfortably and warm, for the place was to be cold, but Stone had decided to stick to wearing suits and to keep up his formalities. Even when he said Eddie’s name, it was with such a distinct respect that it had fazed the journalist for a minute.

“When I got the call, you know, I thought the two just  _ had  _ to be connected. What happened in San Francisco had to be connected to what happened  _ here _ , in Green Hills.” It was mostly rambling, a section of his train of thought put together in a coherent sentence just so he could connect the dots along the way. “How do you know any of this?”

And it was back to his reporter-mode, semi-interrogation, if someone had to describe it. It almost intimidated Stone, if it wasn’t for his time working around someone like Robotnik, and he brushed it aside. It was Eddie’s own job, after all, to ask questions and receive the answers. But it’s not easy to say you, an ex-hitman, were assigned to work with a mad scientist with not a single human record of existing to capture an unknown blue entity.

“I was working with someone. There was a large power outage, for the entirety of the Pacific Northwest, and the government didn’t think there was any proper explanation. So they called this super genius, Ivo Robotnik, who I’m sort of trying to get back.” It was odd wording for Eddie, the term  _ get back _ , but he’d ask about it later. Right now, he was writing notes on a small notepad with a red pen, another odd train of thought.

“Ivo Robotnik-- some sort of, uh, super genius? Kid-scientist? Won a Nobel Prize or something at age 13?” He’d never heard of the name, and nobody had expected him too, but Agent Stone was already making this ‘super genius’ seem very world renown. If the government called on this specific individual for his intelligence, there surely should’ve been some talk about his general existence.

“Uh, no. Actually, according to human records, he never existed. But he did! And it frustrates me so much that I can’t do anything to prove it outside of the things he made!” Stone’s demeanor had drastically changed. His arms flail around the inside of the future-trailer, in the general direction of the drones that stacked one atop the other on the wall, to the large monitors, to the work desk, to the platforms, the lights, the ceiling-- and it became apparent to Eddie that  _ this _ , and other unknown works, were from the mind of a man that doesn’t legally exist.

Eddie was already aware that the government was shady at best, liars at worst. The symbiote grumbles and growls at the thought, understanding how the government would react if the relationship between them and their human spouse were to ever leak in any way shape or form. Of course, the news that Eddie Brock was a taken man had already been out there. But to whom, nobody knew.

And they intended to keep it that way.

“Okay, okay. Hold on, can we get more in depth on what actually  _ happened _ ? Whatever the hedgehog thing is or was, what’s the story here?” He looks down at his notes. Nothing outside of the origin of the trailer- an  _ Ivo Robotnik _ he may attempt to search up- and a brief mention that this Agent Stone was a part of the government somehow and was working on this ‘case’ to capture the hedgehog thing.

“The power outage source was from here- in a baseball court. Dr.Robotnik--”  _ Eddie jots down that the man has a doctorate _ “-- cleverly uses his tech to figure out what did it. And it turns out not to even be human, which we track down to this guy’s house, who so happens to be the sheriff. So he tries to capture the thing, gets punched by Tom-- the sheriff, Tom.”

While Stone is talking, Eddie takes a look around. The setting he’s feeling is that he’s in one of those tech-advanced societies far into the future and he’s the caveman they brought back to life. He manages to efficiently write notes on what Stone is saying, loudly and clearly, but he somewhat gets lost in the details. If he looks close enough, he can see the crevices that hide drawers, a very space-efficient way to store things.

“We find out they’re going to San Francisco and we try getting them there, even on their way. And, now that I think about it, I felt kind of bad about the destruction of their car. But it’s fine now, Tom is living a good life and I haven’t seen the blue hedgehog anywhere.” He’s managed to conveniently condense days of research and hunting into less than a minute, and Eddie can tell, but he can fish for details later. He just needs to know the main story first before he can get to the rest of the important bits.

“Alright now, Agent Stone. Tell me about your involvement, but a bit  _ more  _ this time.”

When you use the right words, you sound like the hero.

To Eddie ( and Venom ), the story was that Robotnik had been helping the government capture the creature. The speeds this creature could go at were far beyond the human capabilities and the need to detain said creature was beginning to rise. All Robotnik was doing was his job, raised in a tough world that never loved him, and Eddie can somewhat resonate with that story. It may even be the reason he’s getting attached to helping Stone.

“But the question is, now, did Tom  _ really  _ get rid of it?”

Stone perks up, eyes widening. He’d never thought of it, Tom was such a nice guy, but that may even be as good a reason as to why the creature would still be around. And, if the thing was still around, perhaps it could explain the whereabouts of Robotnik, where he had gone.

“We could ask? But I’m certain, Eddie, that he’s likely to lie. Everyone here was told to never speak of the events, I don’t think it’d be as easy as just asking.”

“Of course it won’t be. It never is.”

The doorbell buzzes and he can hear a shuffle of voices, one atop the other saying that they’d get it but ultimately coming to a consensus that the first voice was going to answer. Eddit tapped his ring, a common habit of his that developed over the years of having worn one out of gold and now replacing it with boyfriend material. He mentally kicked himself for that, but there was no need, as the insides of the ring were briefly replaced with razor-sharp teeth. He thanked Venom for it.

“Hi, can I help you?” The door is answered by a man an inch taller than himself, which wasn’t exactly a noticeable difference if his symbiote hadn’t pointed it out. It was clear with the expression Eddie received that he was being recognised, which then went to an almost pale worrying expression so well hidden behind a smile. And he knew this because he was in that position once.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Eddie Brock. You might know me from The Eddie Brock Report-- I’m actually here to investigate something. Can I ask you a few questions?” He gestured towards the interior of the house with his notebook, raising an eyebrow. Tom stepped back in invitation, continuing to smile.

“Sure, let me just- would you like a glass of water or anything?”

“Actually, no, I’m good.” A woman passes by with a gym bag, and it seems full of equipment because she’s having a hassle with carrying it upstairs. He didn’t think much of it.

And he navigates himself in the area before Tom guides him towards the living room couch, where he sits almost comically prim and proper. This was a TV  _ star  _ and a known reporter who did what he had to do to take down entire corrupted corporations and Tom really preferred having a job in the first place. “So, before I say anything, I have to let you know that you’re going to be recorded during this interview. . . thing. You alright with that?”

“Yeah, no problem. Just go ahead.” With that consent, Eddie took out his phone and turned on the voice recording app, placing it on the coffee table not too far from the couch. He flipped to the first page of the notebook, then the second, and third. A blank page, just for Tom, and he was starting to look nervous. The symbiote cackled somewhat and Eddie winced at the sudden inside voice, patting his thigh as a silent gesture for Venom to  _ shut up or he’d start talking back _ .

“Alright, thanks. So, Mr.Wachowski--”

“Just Tom is fine.”

“Alright. So, Tom, I’m aware you're the sheriff of Green Hills. And it’s your duty to keep the people here safe and secure, right?” Tom had expected this to be more accusatory, like he’d done something wrong but wasn’t sure what it was, but Eddie’s tone was softer. He was asking questions, not interrogating per se, as he was a journalist. It was expected of him to always ask questions. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I ask, what happened here a few nights ago that caused such destruction to the road just around the corner and its surrounding properties?” The way Tom stammered seemed to point Eddie in the right direction.


End file.
